


The Royal Penis Is Clean

by jaxxOnasty



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alley Sex, Bottom T'Challa, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Topping from the Bottom, despite the title no coming to america references, improbable embassy setting, let's make that a tag, more like porn without well thought out plot, t'challa's royal penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 20:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6922420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxxOnasty/pseuds/jaxxOnasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You may join me in the bath."</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>In which Bucky joins T'Challa in the bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Royal Penis Is Clean

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m in a mood and I [peeped this picture on tumblr](http://stereowire.tumblr.com/post/144444259638/i-have-been-thinking-about-this-since-i-first-saw), and also I can’t stop listening to _Ultralight Beam_ and it’s about Jesus, but I’m still gonna write smut to it. And it’s not edited, so good luck following the POV.
> 
> Sincerely, A Heathen

“It seems that whenever I investigate a slight to my people, you are never far behind, Sergeant Barnes. Why is this?” T’Challa asked after landing swiftly by Bucky’s side and rising from his crouch. The alley they stood in was narrow and dark and seemed almost too small to contain the energy of one of these men, let alone both of them. The rush of the fight had yet to drain from either of them, their chests still heaving with pounding hearts and lungs hungry for air, adrenaline keeping their eyes sharp and on each other despite them fighting on the same side.

Less than a block away from the Wakandian embassy, an explosion rocked DC and the Avengers answered the call. It had been more than a pleasant surprise to have the Black Panther join the fight, but the Panther only revealed that Erik Killmonger, the man who organized the attack, was an exile of Wakanda and had purposely planted a bomb to lure the young king out.

To answer the question, Bucky merely shrugged, the mechanics of his left arm wearing in a way that had become almost comforting now that there was no longer pain associated with. Something on his face, though, must have given that thought away because T’Challa was pulling off his mask and nodding to his arm.

“How is it?”

“Better.” The king nodded knowingly; Wakanda had a hand in bettering Bucky in all ways and Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at the smug expression on his friend’s face. “So why aren’t you out there fielding press questions with Steve, Your Highness?”

With a chuckle, the king, in a rare moment of casual body language, leaned back against brick. “I could ask the same of you, Sergeant.”

“Is that why you’re here? To see what I’m doing instead of fielding questions about whether or not I was working with Killmonger this time? Or the Rhino the time before? Or even fucking Loki when I was still frozen...”

“I care little for your gripings with the American media,  _ mshikaji _ ,” T’Challa stated, looking the other up and down. “You know this. And you know why I am here to see you.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky assured him, but stepped closer anyway. He didn’t stop until he was eye to eye with the other man and could feel his knuckles brush up against the cool textile of T’Challa’s armor when he reached to tug off his leathers. Clawed hands were quick to help him until he was standing breathless and shirtless before the king with his unfastened pants hanging precariously around his hips. T’Challa arched a royal brow and Bucky was on his knees, brushing his sweat soaked hair from his face so he could nuzzle at the hot dick revealed to him.

Widening his stance, T’Challa let Bucky in closer and hummed his approval when the soldier opened his mouth and took him in. Just like in battle, the Winter Soldier did not waste time with the embellishments and extravagances found in some villains these days, he took T’Challa swiftly and efficiently, letting the tip of him hit the back of his throat with the first suck and keeping a hard and steady rhythm despite the way a hand twisted in his hair and urged him faster.

Unthinkingly, the king rolled his hips forward in an attempt to sink deeper inside and ran his dark claws across Bucky’s back, drawing blood and nothing more than a grunt from the one giving him pleasure.

T’Challa could feel himself getting closer from the way his thighs trembled and he braced his back against the wall, letting his head fall back and his mouth fall open when he emptied himself into the soldier’s waiting, hungry mouth. Bucky only released him when he began to soften, ignoring the twitches of overstimulation moments before, and pressed his face to the still armor-clad thigh in front of him, panting harder than he had been after the fight.

Eventually, when they were both properly and steadily on their feet again, T’Challa reeled the other brunet in for a kiss and held him close until they could both catch their breath again.

“Come.”

The trip to the embassy took almost no time once you knew what rooftops to run across and little to no one looked twice in their direction but the  _ Dora Milaje _ , who did nothing but blink and frown when Bucky nodded in their direction. Then, it wasn’t that the room Bucky followed the other man into was too big or too ornate - and every room he had seen in this building so far had been pretty ornate and damn fancy - it was just the presence of it in general that made his eyes go wide. “This normal? A bedroom in an embassy?”

“I do not believe so,  _ mshikaji _ , but my father tended to sleep where he worked. I have found that I am much the same,” assured the monarch while allowing Bucky to watch him drop his dark garb in a pile on the floor next to the  _ very _ large bed. “You may join me in the bath.”

During his brief stay in Wakanda, Bucky had tried to get used to the shit he noticed while in T’Challa’s presence, the king never having to state anything twice, never having to even request anything once, but just as the bed was unexpected, so was the giant bathtub already filled to the brim with steaming water. There had been no sign of any servants in the rooms when the pair got to them - not any that Bucky’s keen hearing could detect anyway. The luxury and the easy yet gracious way T’Challa accepted it made Bucky feel awkward and out of place just as the way the king’s skin turned from dark umber to almost a russet tone once he climbed into the tub of water and fragrant rose petals reflected off him in the low lights made Bucky feel awkward and pale and hot all at once.

“I said  _ join _ me.”

The command in the other’s voice made him strip again. Taking off his boots and pants this time was a relief. After climbing into the deep basin, he looked to dark brown eyes to see what to do next and was given in turn a look of expectancy. So he grabbed a glass bottle of oil set on a marble ledge surrounding a good part of the bath and uncapped it. It didn’t smell like the oil already in the water, but it was sweet and made him imagine what it would taste like on royal skin, so he poured it into his flesh palm and pressed close to T’Challa’s side. He spread his fingers wide on the other’s broad chest and massaged him in circles, watching in pleasure when brown eyes went hooded.

Bucky’s lips were soon pressed against his neck and he hummed as the kisses moved to his ear, licking and nipping him there. He turned his head to catch those lips and languidly tongued into the soldier’s mouth as he lowered his hand to his own erection and stroked it beneath the water. He could feel Bucky straining against his side the hungrier his kisses became and he realized how little he had touched the other man when he finally began to rut against T’Challa’s hip, desperate and needy.

Before the other man could react, T’Challa had his broad back pressed against the back of the basin and his wrists, both flesh and metal, in either of his hands, keeping Bucky steady as he climbed into his lap. Slate blue eyes widened, but Bucky said nothing, merely watched as his own hands were again pressed to T’Challa’s chest. And then led lower. And lower still. “Finish your bathing of me. Here.”

Just as he had been before, the soldier was excellent in following his commands and the king let his head drop back when a metal thumb, warmed by the water, pressed against the crown of him. He reached behind himself and pressed slick fingers to his already twitching hole. “Yes. More.”

“Yes,  _ kotyonok _ ,” was moaned back to him when he sat on the thick offering that had been pressed against him since the alley. He flexed around the length inside of him and groaned, barely humping his hips forward because of the ache that was starting in his lower back, but refusing to stop moving because of the way every other part of him felt.

“This is how I would like all of our meetings to be,” T’Challa whispered to him at some point when Bucky felt nothing beyond his body and the other’s. “With nothing but steam between us.”

The king licked the sweet water he spoke of from a tense cord of Bucky’s shoulder as if to prove a point the other already believed. Bucky growled in response, tightening his hold on T’Challa and getting growled at back for his efforts. With his metal arm wrapped around the king’s waist, he had a better grip on the man and was able to lift and lower him as he pleased, ending the torturous grinding once and for all. T’Challa shouted out and Bucky whispered something like Russian nonsense while pressing his face against his slick chest and just fucked his hips up faster as pleasure rushed through him.

As his own pleasure amounted, T’Challa found that he couldn’t get much of a grip of anything but Bucky’s hair and face which he cradled between his hands and dropped kisses on. A thrust against his prostate had him growling against the stubble he had been tonguing a mere breath before and when his orgasm tipped him over the edge of pleasure, he bit into the sharp line of Bucky’s jaw and rode it out as the soldier came inside of him.

He held himself, tense and trembling, above the other man for a moment then let himself sink against him, pressing his face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of himself soaked into another man.

Soon after the anchoring grip of their hands melted into lazy, trailing caresses, Bucky asked, “So… does Wakanda need an American ambassador or anything…?”

“No.”

**Author's Note:**

> And yeah, the king of a country targeted by a bomb in DC of all places ain’t just gonna be able to sneak away to boink Bucky, but T’Challa had to go boink Bucky, so we gotta have some suspension of disbelief, you guys!
> 
> Also I wanted T’Challa calling Bucky “homeboy” in Swahili. Someone please tell me the internet didn’t lie to me. ~~Bucky called him “kitten”!~~


End file.
